Little Town on the High Plains

I'm no expert on Cawker City, Kansas, but I did stop for about 15 minutes the other day on my way to Nebraska. Having lived in Kansas for 43 of my 47 years, I've heard a lot about "The World's Largest Ball of Twine," Cawker's pride and joy. So when I had the chance to visit, I took it.

The ball of twine is indeed quite impressive. It's impressive because of its size--it weighed 17,886 pounds in 2006 according to a nearby sign--and its age--Frank Stoeber started it 56 years ago--but also because it has given the town something to advertise as uniquely its own. Some of the sidewalks have a "string" painted on them, as if the ball has started to unravel and begun to roll around town. According to a sign next to the twine, Cawker City holds a "Twine-a-thon" on the third weekend in August. Do people bring their pieces of twine, saved since the previous August, to add to the record-holder? Do people show artwork made from twine? Wear twine-woven skirts and vests? It sounds like an intriguing and interesting weekend. Across Highway 24 from the shelter where the ball sits is the Ball of Twine Inn, a cozy-looking little place that I didn't take further time to explore. Maybe some time in the next 47 years I'll make a stop!The part of the town that I saw, running along US 24, has clearly seen better days. Abandoned storefronts dot the blocks, and abandoned pieces of farm equipment seem to be the main decor. Not that old trucks and tractors don't have their own unique appeal--I took several pictures myself--but they are obvious evidence of a town that's struggling to stay alive, like so many small Kansas communities. These wrecks, rusting yet picturesque, show the energy that used to invigorate Cawker City, as family farmers worked the surrounding fields on small tractors, hauling their crops to marker in trucks with no modern amenities like air conditioning, power steering, power brakes, or even radios. They would make a proud parade, if only someone had the knowledge, will, and money to restore them before they deteriorate beyond reclamation. If they haven't already.

I must say, I was impressed with the efforts of an unknown local artist who has painted reproductions of several famous works of art and posted them in windows of buildings both occupied and empty. I saw Van Gogh's Sunflowers and a couple of Impressionist works. The people of Cawker City have no excuses to be unaware of their artstic heritage! I wish I had had more time to see what other paintings I could have spotted, but the road called, so I took one last look at nearly nine tons of sisal twine sitting under its custom-made shelter, then crawled back into my car and followed a farm truck out of town.

Various Lives

Michael Jackson via last.fm

I'm not rich. I'm not famous. Few people know my name, outside of family and friends. I've been on television exactly twice: once in the crowd at a Kansas State basketball game, and once as a featured teacher in Dayton, OH. But the deaths of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson today have me thinking that my life, while mundane and pedestrian compared to these two incredibly talented people, is perhaps happier than either of theirs.

Maybe a lif

Image by Dallas1200am via Flickr

e in the public's eye is what they wanted. If so, then I'm probably wrong about our comparative levels of happiness. But to have my every move photographed by get-a-life paparazzi would be my last wish, so I'll sit here in my small home, listening to the stories of Farrah and Michael, and mourn their loss without envying their lives.